index


Message-ID: <33493asstr$1005909004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Ray" <ray1031@cac.net>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain;
	charset="iso-8859-1"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Subject: {ASSM} RP   "Crowded House"  By Ray1031 (M/F f/solo-Toys  ROM)
Date: Fri, 16 Nov 2001 06:10:04 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Crowded House - {M/F f/Solo-Toys (ROM?)} By Ray1031 (C) 17 June
2001

The following story contains scenes and descriptions of a sexual
and erotic nature. If you are not of legal age or moral
disposition to read such stories, or it is illegal to possess or
read such stories where you are . . . then please leave.

For all others, I hope you enjoy. Comments and criticisms are
welcome  . . . except from religious fanatics . . . sorry, but I
don't need people telling me I'll burn in hell if my personal
beliefs are not the same as theirs.

Thanks for your consideration.



Crowded House by Ray1031


   I walked into my bathroom and a clothesline full of panties,
nylons and hose slid under my chin, almost choking me. I jerked
backwards, the rug under my feet slipped and I landed on my ass -
hard!

   "Shit!" I announced as I started to get up, already hearing
the sounds of running feet from the other two bedrooms. I was
sitting up, cross- legged, surrounded by fallen underwear when
the hallway lights went on and three half-naked females appeared
in the bathroom doorway. Debbie took one look and started
laughing, the twins looked puzzled.

   "I forgot that women in the house meant bathroom booby traps,"
I said from the floor.

   "We're sorry, Uncle Doug!" the twins chimed in unison. . .

   "But we didn't know where else to put them," finished Hannah.

   "That's okay, Hannah. No harm done," I said, standing and
turning on the bathroom light. "I'll put up some lines for you in
the basement this afternoon." Just then, I heard the first sounds
of the baby stirring in Debbie's room and knew it was about to
cry. "Well, it's 5:30 and we all need to be up in an hour anyway
. . . Deb, the baby is about to go off, must be feeding time.
Rachael, can you get me my cigarettes from my night stand?
Hannah, a pot of coffee would be nice."

   "Yes, Uncle Doug," They all chimed in unison, Debbie with a
broad grin.

   As they left I closed the door and turned to drain the lizard,
thinking about the current crowding of my house and how it came
to be.

   At 48, I looked late 30s. I was in good shape, and had
maintained the same 185lb on my 5'11" frame, plus or minus 5
pounds, for the last 20 years without real effort. I'd never
married, was moderately successful with my own service business,
and owned my own three bedroom home, 50 acres of mostly wooded
property, backing onto a river . . . fully paid for, and without
really looking for that type of thing, I was constantly catching
women from their teens on up, looking twice and/or "checking out
my butt". Without being arrogant about it, I seldom doubted
myself, and if I was looking, I almost never came home without
female companionship.

   My current situation was, however, completely unexpected, by
all involved. Debbie was 32, a shade under 5' and only ever saw
90lb when she was pregnant. Her twin daughters, Rachael and
Hannah, had been her 16th birthday present, being born three days
before her birthday. She and her mother had raised them for the
first three years alone, her father having died when she was
eight, while Debbie finished High School. Then she married their
father, attended two years of community college, divorced their
father, moved from Indiana to Michigan and moved in with Keith
after a couple of years. 10 months ago, the baby, Susan was born
and the trouble started. Two months ago, Debbie found she was
pregnant again. Then a week ago, she and the girls came home to
find their mobile home mostly empty, Keith gone, and the park
manager advising them that their trailer was sold, by Keith, and
they had a week to move out - under terms of the sale.

   So, here we are . . . I had, by chance stopped by the day
after all of this, for one of my haphazard visits, and Debbie and
the girls had poured their hearts out to Uncle Doug.

   Yeah, 'Uncle' Doug - I was really no relation, except
emotionally. I'd met Debbie when she was 5. She had two sisters
and two brothers, all 12 plus years older than she. I'd been in
the US Air Force with her oldest brother and, at the family's
request, had stopped by their home to meet everyone when I
returned from overseas. Long story short: I was immediately
adopted by Mom and Dad as another son, I was everyone's new
brother, and as they all had families of their own, I was Uncle
Doug to everyone's kids. So it still stands today, though they
will barely talk to one another, Uncle Doug is welcome everywhere
and is big brother or Uncle to all, equally.  So, when Debbie had
this problem come up, and further found that Keith had somehow
emptied her personal bank account as well, it was suddenly her
'brother' Doug to the rescue.

   My house was fairly large, and adjustments could be made, plus
there was the added benefit that twins would stay in the same
school . . . so it was decided, they moved in with me. It took a
few days to get things ready for them, as it was definitely a
bachelor's home. My business office/computer/ video game room, I
emptied and made into my bedroom. I put up a new shed beside my
garage, to catch some of the overflow. The family room (My old
living room) became the twins bedroom. The breakfast nook was now
the dining room. The old formal dining room was now the living
room, and my old bedroom was now Debbie's and the baby's. With
much shuffling around, five trips to the dump and moving my
business office to a corner of the basement, I suddenly found
myself with three women and a baby as housemates. A fact I was
immediately reminded of as I stepped from the bathroom and walked
into the kitchen.

   Debbie was sitting at the dining table, her pajama top open as
Susan suckled at her freckled breast, red hair in disarray around
her shoulders. Rachael and Hannah were bustling  around the
kitchen counter and stove. At 5' 3", they both had their mother's
red hair and freckles, petite frame and ready smile. I'd found
out the morning before that none of the three wore pajama bottoms
to bed. Debbie wore an old shirt, bikini panties and socks to
bed. Her daughters wore muscle T-shirts and thong panties. With
their pert, matching 34's swinging free under their T-shirts, I
didn't know if I was in a bachelor's heaven or hell . . . after
all, I was 'Uncle' Doug. Myself, before they moved in, if I was
alone I slept in my jockey's and a muscle T. When it was decided
they were moving in, I bought myself half a dozen pair of sweat
pants, cut them into shorts, and added them to my nightly and
morning wardrobe.

   As I sat across the table from Debbie, Hannah set cups of
coffee before each of us. Tasting mine I found it to be just
right, enough sugar to take the bitterness off, but not enough to
really sweeten it. "Someone was paying attention to how I like my
coffee," I commented, noticing that all three faces reddened a
little at the comment. 'They must have been talking about me
before I came in,' I thought.

   I picked up the remote control and turned on the small 9"
television on my china cabinet as Hannah replied, "It was easy,
you and Mom like it the same, though you do make coffee a lot
stronger than she does."

   "Too many years in the military," I said off-handedly, tuning
to the news for the weather reports. "If it's not strong enough
to peel paint, it's not coffee."

   "We'll get used to it," Rachael said, bringing cups for Hannah
and herself. She placed my cigarettes, lighter and an ashtray
before me. "Hannah and I have always been a little surprised that
you drink yours the same as Mom, that's all. Most people seem to
take it black, with cream, or way more sugar than you do."

   "Where do you think I learned how to drink my coffee?"
prompted Debbie. "Sitting up late or first thing in the morning
with your Grandma and your Uncle Doug. The first time I ever
drank coffee was at the table with your Uncle Doug. I made such a
face, that he showed me how to add just the right amount of
sugar. What was it you said, Doug?"

   "Just enough to take off the bite, but not enough to destroy
the taste . . . add too much sugar and you might as well just
drink hot sugar water since you can't taste the coffee for the
sweet."

   "That's what Momma told us when we first started drinking
coffee," remarked Rachael.

   "Now you know where I got that, too," added Debbie. "I was
nine when I had my first cup of coffee. I had this massive crush
on your Uncle Doug, and I was trying to be oh so-o-o grown up for
him."

   I chuckled softly for a moment and put in, "Too bad you never
got over your crush, Debbie."

   Her daughters looked stunned for a moment, then seemed even
more surprised when Debbie grinned and added, "Have I been that
obvious?" She took Susan away from her breast, passed her to
Hannah and cleaned her teat with a towel before closing her
nursing bra and buttoning her blouse. Hannah placed Susan on a
towel over her shoulder, and began that gentle mother's rock as
she gently patted the baby's back. "I thought I always did well
at acting normally when you were around."

   "Oh, I don't think your brothers or sisters ever caught on,
your daughters obviously never did, but your mother knew, and
tell me, haven't your fights with Keith always seemed more bitter
right after one of my visits? Why do you think my visits were
always so haphazard in nature? Though I never try to overstep my
bounds or cause trouble; yours wasn't the first relationship
where my presence seemed to cause problems."

   "I always forget how perceptive you are. You always seem to
know what's going on. But, you knew you were always welcome, or
did Keith say something to you?"

   "No, Keith never said a word. He was always affable and
friendly, at least on the surface. It wouldn't have done him any
good if he had said something,  the only thing that would have
changed is that I wouldn't have entered the house. I would still
have stopped by to see you and the girls, and I think he knew
that. Besides . . . you laid down the law about me more than
once, didn't you?"

   "Like I said, perceptive.  Well, if you will excuse me, I need
a shower."

   "Uh, Mom," began Rachael. "We, um, need to talk for aminute."

   "Yes, Rachael?"

   "Well, um . . . ah . . . Hannah and I need something . . ."

   "What do you need? You know we don't have any money until I
get paid Friday." Today was Tuesday.

   "Yeah, we know that. But, this is something that can't wait.
It's um . . . well . . . ah," and she trailed off as both she and
Hannah glanced at me.

    Suddenly I knew what the problem was and I started chuckling,
loudly, almost choking on a sip of coffee.

   As all three turned to me I asked Rachael, "Tampons, pads, or
panty shields?" Debbie caught on grinned, turned and walked away
from her daughter's surprised looks.  After a few moments of
silence I looked each girl in the eyes and added, "Look, girls, I
am going to tell you something that you should have already
realized, long ago. A thing I told your mother when she was 8 or
9. I am as apt as not to say what I think, just because I thought
it. I don't get embarrassed, and it will never do any good to get
embarrassed around me because of  what I do or say. Especially
since it won't stop me. Now, I helped you pack up and move. I
know what you brought and your 'monthly' items weren't part of
it. The question still stands, do you two use tampons, tampax,
full pads, or shields, and what strengths? Tell me the brand and
specifics and I will pick them up while I'm out working. When are
you due, anyway?"

   "Tomorrow, sometime," from Hannah who was flushing slightly.

   "Well, make me a list with the specifics," I said standing and
picking up my cup. As I walked away I added, "If you need douches
or deodorants, add that as well." I kept my back turned as I
slowly poured another cup of coffee, then continued to my bedroom
to lay out the day's clothing. I didn't want to further embarrass
the twins, so I moved slowly allowing them plenty of time for
recovery. When I returned, they were both perky and cheerful
again, working at the stove on breakfast. Susan was sitting in
her playpen fascinated by the toys around her. A notepad was
lying on the table with a list of their needs. I glanced at it
then sat silently watching the news until Debbie emerged and
joined me. She was wearing jeans and a brassiere as she toweled
her hair dry. Sliding the notepad and pen across the table to her
I said, "Add to that anything you and the baby will need before
Friday. I'll pick it all up while I'm out today."

   Debbie picked up the pen and thought for a minute before
adding a few items to the list. Sliding the pad back to me she
said, "I'll pay you back on Friday, Doug. But until then, thank
you."

   "Deb, my dear," I commented, putting the list in a pocket, "If
you even try to give me any money I will paddle your bare ass. I
won't care if your daughters are present or not. You know me," I
added looking deeply into her emerald green eyes. "After all
these years . . . you know me."

   "Yes, thank you."

   After a breakfast of sausage, eggs, bacon and pancakes, I
showered and dressed for the day. When I came back to the
kitchen, I was moving normally, for me that is. Debbie and the
girls were sitting at the table talking about me. They didn't
hear me come into the room. Hannah was just asking her mother if
I would really spank her and Debbie was saying, "I don't really
know, he might. Doug will quite often do exactly what he says
he'll do. He's spanked me before."

   "He has?"  from Rachael.

   As I moved to the coffee pot I joined the conversation,
"Rachael, you must remember something. I am 16 years older than
your momma. When we first met, I was 21 and she was 5. Your momma
has always been willful and kind of stubborn. I did find it
necessary, once or twice, to emphasize my words to her with a
swat or two on the butt. Only once or twice, and only when
circumstances made it really necessary."

    As I carried my cup to the table and sat, I looked each twin
in the eyes and added, "Although nothing has been said, yet, in
the next few weeks there will come some rules, or things/places
your are never to touch or enter. I will tell you one thing,
right now . . . disobey my instructions, while you live here, and
16 year old young ladies or not, I will bruise your asses with my
hand. Got it?" They both nodded and Debbie grinned. "Good, now
that the ogre has had his say, you two had better hit the showers
or you'll be late for the bus." As they moved away from the table
I turned to Debbie and asked "Do you need anything for the Day
Care? Lunch or gas money?"

   "No, Katy's giving me a free month of day care until I'm back
on my feet. I've got plenty of gas and others at the shop have
been feeding me at lunch."

   "Good enough, just be sure the one's treating you to lunch
won't expect favors you don't want to give." She just smiled,
ever so slightly and raised an eyebrow at me. "If you need
anything before Friday, let me know." She reached across the
table and squeezed my hand as her eyes misted a little. Then she
left the table to finish dressing.

   Forty-five minutes later the twins were at the bus stop,
Debbie was on her way to work and I was climbing into the Service
Van, clipboard loaded with the day's stops and the shoppinglist.

   As usual, for that time of year - mid May, I rolled in about
9:00, a little after sunset. I would be working 12 - 14 hours
daily six days a week for at least five more weeks. I really
didn't expect to interfere with the girls lives much before they
had enough to get their own place again. When I walked in and set
the shopping bags on the kitchen counter Hannah hurried out of
the living room, already dressed for bed, and started diving into
the bags until she found the boxes of Tampons. "Thank God," she
said heading for the bathroom. As she walked away, I noticed the
edges of a folded paper towel sticking from the back of her thong
panties.

   Walking into the living room I found Debbie and Rachael also
dressed for bed. Surprisingly, the TV was tuned to TNT for WCW
Nitro. Goldberg was doing a spear on one of the newer no-names
preparatory to putting him down for the count. Debbie got up from
the couch to hug me hello, but had to stop and stretch first.
After the hug I looked at her and said, "Back?"

   "Yeah."  Debbie had broken her tailbone in a childhood
accident. As a result, when she was overtired or during times of
extreme stress, her back would bother her. Taking her hand I
moved to the couch and sat near the edge with my knees spread.
Pointing to the floor between my legs, I said simply, "Sit." 
Debbie sat on the floor between my legs and I spent the next
fifteen minutes massaging her back. Rachael kept shifting her
attention between the wrestling on the television and me rubbing
her mother's back, neck and shoulders. Hannah too was interested
when she emerged from the bathroom and sat on the other end of
the couch.

   After I was done, I placed my hands under her elbows and
gently lifted. Debbie shifted her weight into my palms and I
helped lift her to her feet. "Better?"

   "Much, thank you. Want some dinner?"

   "I grabbed a burger and some fries an hour ago. I'm all right.
What I need, is a shower and a little relaxation."

   Debbie wrinkled her nose and said, "Especially the shower."

   "Smart ass," I remarked as I got to my feet and headed to my
bedroom for underwear and sweat pants. "Next time I might rub you
the wrong way."

   "Not possible," her voice pitched to follow me as I moved
about my bedroom. "I've never taken exception to or been offended
by anything you've ever said or done. Not a single thing."

   "What about when you were 11 and I paddled you in front of
your girlfriend?" I called back. "As I remember it, you didn't
speak to me for the rest of that visit."

   "I was afraid to talk to you after that. I was so positive you
were furious and hated me for knocking over your motorcycle. I
just knew I'd really disappointed you and you'd never have
anything to do with me, ever again. Besides, I'd seen the way you
were looking at Donna (her sister) and I was jealous. When you
left without specifically saying goodbye to me, I just knew I was
right about your hating me. I was miserable for three months,
until I received that Kimono and birthday card from you."

   "I'd almost forgotten that," I said as I stepped back into the
room. "I never asked, did you like it? Although it probably did
fit you like a full kimono at the time, it was actually an
oriental smoking jacket."

   "Mama," chimed in Rachael. "Is that the blue and purple one
you keep in the bottom of your underwear drawer?"

   Blushing furiously Debbie said, "Yes, dear. That's the very
one your Uncle Doug gave to me all those years ago."

   "Why don't you ever wear it, Mama?" asked Hannah. "All you
ever do is wash it by hand every couple of months and then put it
away again."

   "I used to wear it all the time, though it was way too big for
me. When I first got it, I even wore it to school and slept in it
at night. When I'd had it about six months, I was wearing it in
the kitchen one night and put a small tear in it. I cried for
hours. Your Grandma sewed it up for me, and she did it so
carefully that it's almost invisible. I've never worn it since. I
promised myself I would keep it and care for it and never again
wear it except for your Uncle Doug, so he could see me in his
special gift."

   Both girls had moved and were sitting cross-legged on the
floor, engrossed in their mother's words. As I turned to head for
my shower, Rachael asked, "Did you?"

   "Did I what, dear?"

   "Did you ever wear it for Uncle Doug, like you wanted?"

   "Not yet, dear. Sometimes I would forget until after his visit
was over, sometimes there were other things happening and the
time didn't seem right. Finally, I got old enough that the idea
seemed a little childish. No, I never have."

   After my shower, I stepped back into the living room to relax
and watch a little tube, cigarettes and Zippo in one hand, soda
pop in the other. It was just after 10:00 and Debbie said, "All
right girls, he's back . . . it's time for bed . . . you
promised."

   At her words, both girls got up from the floor and came over
to stand on either side of me. They both hugged me at the same
time, each kissed a cheek and together they chorused "Good Night,
Uncle Doug. Thank you. We love you." Then they were off to the
far end of the house and their bedroom. I moved to my favorite
recliner and sat back to enjoy the last 40 minutes of wrestling
before the news and weather would come on at 11. Debbie sat
quietly on the sofa, eating potato chips and sipping a glass of
ice water until the baby stirred. Debbie gathered up a towel and
the baby then approached the recliner. "Make Room," were her only
words.

   I moved to the left in my seat and raised my right arm to the
side. She slid in beside me, snuggling up under my arm and tight
against me before opening her nursing bra. She carefully
positioned little Susan in the slight valley created by our
cuddled bodies. Our positions, the slight angle of the chair, and
the baby's own weight kept her in the perfect position for
suckling without having to be held. Once the baby was feeding,
Debbie relaxed into me. Her left hand resting on my right thigh,
her right hand pulled my right arm down around her shoulder and
held my hand comfortably between her breasts.

    I was reminded of so many previous nights, years past, when
we used to sit just this way (only without the baby) while she
was growing up. From my very first visit when she was five, right
up until the night before her wedding we would sit just this way,
relaxed, watching television and  enjoying the simple contact of
the cuddle. We used to sit like this, usually with everyone else
in the house already asleep, until she would fall asleep. Then I
would carry her to her room and put her to bed, always kissing
her forehead and saying, "Sleep well my love," before returning
to the sofa where I slept during my visits.

   "I've missed this so," she remarked. "Why did we ever stop
sitting this way?"

   "You got married. I doubt Eric, her husband,  would have
understood."

   "No, you're right. He never would have accepted something like
this . . . but I was always so comfortable this way. I never
remember going to my bed, but I always woke up there. Did you put
me to bed?"

   "Every single time. Your mother used to give me such dirty
looks sometimes, whenever she saw us sitting this way. She never
said anything, I think she always trusted me, but the looks were
a warning."

   "She only said anything to me once, when I was twelve or
thirteen, about it not being lady-like with someone who wasn't my
boyfriend or my father. When was the last time we sat this way?"

   "The night before you married Eric, when you were 19. You'd
had such a hectic day that you'd changed into a T-shirt and loose
shorts and cuddled next to me to relax for a few minutes before
taking your shower. I think you were asleep within ten minutes. I
carried you up to bed and thought I was going to wake you up
getting those shorts off you. With the lights off in your room, I
didn't realize you'd left your panties off until I had the shorts
below your knees. I tucked you in, kissed you goodnight and went
back downstairs for a last cup of coffee with your mother. I
think she was more nervous about your wedding day than you were.
She cried and we talked for hours after you were in bed."

   "Want to hear something funny?"

   "What?"

   "I was so sure of what I was doing . . . so positive that Eric
was THE one . . . I never had a doubt about my choices . . .
until you showed up during my bachelorette party the day before
the wedding. You walked in, got yourself a beer from the
refrigerator and sat down in a room full of young women and the
atmosphere was one of complete ease within fifteen minutes. Not
one of those girls was uneasy about you being there. Most of them
were saying things that they would normally never say in front of
a boy. Somehow, you made the party so much better."

   "Well, half of those girls had known me, through you, for a
few years."

   "Did you know that they were voting on jumping you and trying
to get in your pants before the night ended?"

   "That might have been fun . . . why didn't they?"

   "I pointed out how tired you were and said if they jumped you,
without warning, while you were that tired, someone might get
hurt."

   "Spoilsport."

   "But, the funny part is that the minute you walked through the
door and said 'Hello, Ladies.' I had my first doubts about
marrying Eric. By the end of the night, or at any time up until
the actual wedding, had you said even one word, I would have
called it all off. Isn't that funny?"

   "Not funny 'ha-ha', it's not."

   "But, it's true. Oh, I've missed this so much," she said
again, snuggling closer still, Susan shifting slightly as she
moved, but never losing the teat from her mouth. "My only regret,
during all those years, was that you weren't there beside me when
I woke up, so I could hug you close and hold you."

   "Debbie was asleep, breathing softly, within fifteen minutes.
Susan finished nursing in another five, and was starting to
drowse where she lay. I gently disengaged my arm and lowered the
chair to a seating position. Setting Susan in my lap and leaning
her forward into my palm, I gently patted her back until she
burped, cleaned her up and laid her in her mothers lap. Carefully
scooping the two up together I carried them into Deb's bedroom
and laid them on the bed. I put Susan in her crib and kissed her
forehead, saying "Sleep tight little angel."  For Debbie I
resealed her nursing bra and tucked her in. A kiss on the
forehead and I said, "Goodnight, my love," before closing the
door and returning to my chair to watch the news.

   It was about three o'clock when I woke up and realized I
wasn't alone in my room. Opening my eyes, the faint light from
the windows revealed Debbie standing next to my bed, watching me
while Susan again nursed at her breast, the right one this time.
"Yes?" was all I said.

   "Move over!" I moved to my right and she crawled in on my left
side, again snuggling close and laying Susan so she was supported
by both and nursing on her own. Debbie was asleep again almost
immediately, and a few minutes later, I too fell asleep the only
sounds in the room the soft suckling sounds of Susan nursing.

   When I woke again, it was at 5:00 AM. Debbie was sleeping on
her left side and had backed against me, my arm under her neck
she was holding my forearm with both hands. Susan was sleeping
squarely in the center of my chest and had just filled her
diaper. It was a combination of some excess fluids flowing across
my stomach and the unmistakable odors that had wakened me.

   Taking Susan and disengaging my left arm I gently rolled off
the right side of the bed and carried her to her mother's room.
After changing her diapers and rocking her back to sleep, it was
5:45, too late to return to bed.

   I made a pot of coffee and had just seated myself at the table
when Hannah walked through heading for the bathroom. Three
minutes later, she was passing back through when she suddenly
changed course and sat in my lap. Putting her arms around my neck
she rested her head on my shoulder and said "Good morning."  I
was quiet putting one hand loosely around her back and sipping my
coffee.

   Five minutes later, I was carrying the sleeping girl back to
the double bed she and her sister were currently sharing. After
gently putting her to bed, I kissed both foreheads and softly
told them, "It's almost morning, my sweets. Wake up rested."
Returning to the kitchen I drew a fresh cup of coffee.

   Twenty minutes later alarms started going off around the
house.

   One of the few advantages to being my own boss and running a
service truck, was that I could calmly sit and enjoy my coffee,
while the others fought for the bathroom and the shower. I sat
back, sipped and enjoyed the show, female bodies bumping into one
another, trying to crowd around the bathroom mirror (the only one
in the house), arguing over who got the hair dryer first. I moved
the coffee carafe to a hot pad and started a second pot. Grabbing
a note pad, I started making notes to myself as I watched the
madness around me. Twenty-five minutes later I was joined at the
table by three attractive women, mostly dressed, discussing their
day ahead and asking what time I would be home.

    "It depends . . . If parts I've ordered are at the supply
house when I arrive, I'll be late, after dark. If the parts
aren't in, I'll be earlier. I can't put an hour to it. I never
know exactly how long a job will take until I get there."

    "Hannah and I want to see more of you," pouted Rachael. "I
know Momma does too. She was telling us so many stories about you
last night and since we're going to be all together for a while .
. . we were thinking we could finally learn more about you and do
things together . . . "

    " . . . Yeah!! We've always loved your visits and wished to
see you more often. Momma never could tell us why you didn't stop
by more, or why we didn't all do more together. We never knew
there was any friction with Keith, but we did know that Mom
really liked your visits. She was always so happy when you came
by."

   "Well, after last night, you now have your answers. As for my
work schedules, I'm fully booked for the next three weeks. The
only way I'll get time off, is if it rains, then I'll be behind
and will have to work even harder playing catch-up. It will rain,
I will get behind, I will play catch-up, and just when I get
caught up, it'll rain again.  Happens every year . . . but it's
part of what I do. Tell you what, when do you two get out of
school for the summer?"

    "June 8th."

    "Okay, Debbie, I'm going to block off the 12th and 13th of
June in my schedule book and half days for the 10th and 11th - in
case I need catch-up time. That's just over three weeks from now.
You tell them at work that you need those two days off, and we'll
all make it like a weekend, even though it will be mid-week.
Sound good to everyone?"

    "Yes," they all chorused. "But what will we be doing?" asked
Debbie.

    "Leave that to me, I have a few ideas along those lines. I do
want you to do one thing for me though, Call Chuck and see if he
will care for Susan for those two days. I'm sure he'd love to
have his niece over, unless you'd rather make other arrangements.
This 'weekend' will be just for us four 'big kids', okay?"

    "If it was an actual weekend, Chuck would be happy to, but
mid-week I don't know if he can. I'll make some arrangements,
though."

    "Good, if it means extra money, I'll cover it. I'll say this
once, and only once . . . between now and then, I won't answer
any question about what we're going to do or where we are going
to be. You will all find out when things happen until then, it's
for me to know and you to not worry about. If it turns out good,
and we decide to try this again, then I may let one of you plan
the next one . . . we'll see how things go. I will say only one
thing, though, plan on casual dress, plan on some indoor - air
conditioned activities and some outdoor activities. Now, girls, I
think it's time for everyone to get ready to leave, don't you?"

    As luck would have it, Friday afternoon turned into a
rain-out. About one o'clock the rains started. I tried simply
sitting them out in my truck, but listening to the radio I found
that they were expected to last the remainder of the day.

    On the way home I made stops at K-Mart, Target, a Drug Store
and a Hardware, but was still walking into the house by 2:20.
Long ago, I'd learned that shopping by a list saved time.

    Walking into the house I had my arms full of purchases.
Knowing that the twins weren't due from school until after 3:30
and since most of the purchases were for their room, I nudged
open their bedroom door and walked right in, without knocking or
announcing myself. As it turned out, Rachael had come home early
from school, a girlfriend had driven her home and dropped her
off. Stepping into the room both she and I ended up surprised and
embarrassed. There she was, on the bed, half propped by a pillow
against the headboard, naked as a jaybird. Her heals were locked
behind her shoulders her mouth hung open slack-jawed and her eyes
were glazed as she stared intently at her left hand sliding a
medium-thick, vibrator in and out of her swollen cunt. She had a
long vibrating anal probe in her right hand, between her thumb
and forefinger, guiding the tip of it across her distended
clitoris as she pinched and rolled her right nipple between her
pinky finger and the heel of her hand.

    At the movement of the door, she turned her face towards me,
but she wasn't seeing clearly yet. It was obvious that she was on
the threshold of an orgasm, one that she must have been building
to for a while. Small beads of sweat sat like a fine mist across
her upper lip. Her chest and cheeks were flushed and her normally
light tan freckles were darkened to an almost dark brown. Her
nipples were a deep reddish brown color and standing firm. Her
hair was matted across her shoulders and her eyelids were more
than half closed. As she turned, a small vibration passed through
her body and her feet and toes started to curl against the pillow
behind her as her body stiffened in place. Her eyelids closed
completely for a moment. Her hands never missed a stroke, and her
head kept turning in my direction.

    My initial momentum carried me a full three steps into the
room before I could stop myself. I was standing next to an
entertainment center-turned dresser, and  hastily began placing
my bundles on it as her eyes finally cleared and she focused on
me . . .

    "Uncle Doug!!!" Immediately behind that came the realization
of how she wasn't dressed and what she was doing. "I . . . oh! .
. . I . . . I . . . Oh shit! . . ."

    I turned for the door and started to leave, but paused for
one last look at her.  She had tried to cover herself with her
hands, dropping the anal probe and draping her right arm across
her chest. Her left hand she'd placed flat across her pussy and
ass, with two immediate effects: she had completely jammed the
entire vibrator into herself, to the hilt, and she had
accidentally turned in to full when she did so, as indicated by
the increased noise it made. I'm guessing that it hit her cervix
as it slipped completely inside, because her eyes suddenly sprang
open and her whole body jerked into a sudden spasm.
    "Let me know when you're done. I have a few more things to
get from the truck, then I have some work to do in here," I
commented as I walked out the door.

    Three trips and ten minutes later, everything was out of the
truck that I needed. Try as I might not to, I kept replaying the
scene in the bedroom through my mind. Rachael was HOT, I had
already known that, but now I really KNEW it. As a result, I was
sporting a raging hard-on, easily visible through my jeans. It
would pass as I worked.

    Rachael came out of the bedroom in loose shorts and T-shirt
as I placed the last items on the floor outside the bedroom door.
Her head was hanging and tears were freely flowing down her face.
Her knees still seemed a little wobbly as she walked.  "Uncle
Doug, I'm sorry . . ."

    "For what? It wasn't your fault. I didn't expect anyone home,
or I would have knocked."

    "But, what I was doing . . . I . . ."

    "So what?" I took her hand and led her to the kitchen table.
Pushing her down in a chair I put my fingers under her chin and
raised her face until she was forced to look in my eyes.
"Rachael, do you think you're the only woman who has ever
masturbated? Or used sex toys while doing it?"

    "But, I know it's wrong . . ."

    "Bullshit!! Everyone has needs. Every person on the planet
has desires and l let's say 'pressures' that sometimes need
satisfying. They come more frequently and more strongly for some
than for others, but everyone gets them. If you don't have a
partner to help you, then it's perfectly normal to take care of
things yourself. What you were doing was not hurting anyone . . .
you don't have diseases to worry about this way . . . and you
don't need to worry about babies . . . you did nothing wrong!!"

    "But it's so embarrassing," she said again starting to drop
her eyes. They stopped with her looking at my crotch and the
obvious shape of my rigid member through my jeans. Her hand,
seeming of it's own accord, reached out and the tips of her
fingers traced the outline through my pants. Until I took a step
back, out of reach. "Did I do that?"

    "Rachael, seeing you like that would have done this to any
normal man."

    "It seems so big . . . does it hurt, confined like that?"

    "It'll pass . . . as long as you quit trying to touch it.
THAT doesn't help matters any. As I work, it will relax. Are you
feeling a little better now?"

    "Yes, I'm okay. You said you needed to work in our room. What
are you going to do?"

    "I bought some full length mirrors and a few other things for
yours and your mother's room. So you'll all be able to dress and
see yourselves without fighting over one little mirror in the
mornings. I plan to hang the mirrors and put a plug just below
each for your hair dryers. I also bought material for putting
framed lights beside each mirror for better lighting. Since I'm
rained out for the rest of the day, I thought I'd put it all up
today."

    "Can I help?"

    "If you want to. Have you ever used a hammer or othertools?"

    "Not really. Just hanging a picture or two. But I'm willing
to learn."

    Digging my keys out of my pocket I selected one and said,
"This is the key for the garage. Do you know what a level looks
like?" she nodded. "Good. At the end of my workbench are some
five gallon pails. Take one and fill it with . . ." I told her
what tools and boxes to bring from the garage, where each one was
located, what the ones she didn't know looked like, and she was
out the door.

    For the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening, we
worked in both bedrooms, positioning the mirrors, mounting track
style wiring guides along the baseboards, putting in electrical
plugs and mounting lights and switches. Hannah and then Debbie
joined in the work when they each arrived home. We worked until
just before 10:00 PM, stopping only for a sandwich dinner about
6:30 and to occasionally play with and tend to Susan, usually
taking turns, rotating the work and breaks. But finally, we were
finished and all three women were satisfied with the results.
Then it was me for the shower.

    Over the sounds of the water, I heard the girls making
multiple trips back and forth through the house. Things were
thumping and there was much giggling, but voices were hushed and
I guessed I wasn't meant to hear what was going on, so I ignored
it.

    Each girls in turn had their chance in the bath. As she
waited her turn, Debbie sat on the couch and, using a breast
pump, expressed two baby bottles of milk, which she placed in the
refrigerator. Then took her shower last, until finally, just
before 11:00 we were all gathered before the TV, which the twins
had claimed control of and tuned to MTV. As had become her habit,
since the second night of their stay, Debbie came out ready for
bed, a towel wrapped around her still damp hair. Walked over to
my lounger and said, "Make room." As she snuggled into position,
I thought Rachael was giving her mother a slightly jealous look.

    She realized she'd been caught and blushed furiously for long
seconds, a look of contrition on her face as she turned back to
the TV.

    We sat like that for the next thirty minutes, with me
reclaiming control of the TV long enough to watch tomorrow's
weather. Rachael and Hannah were lounging sideways across the
couch, their legs tucked up and feet just touching in the center,
Debbie resting comfortably against me. After the weather, I
tossed the remote to Hannah, again relinquishing control of the
television.

    She caught it deftly with her right hand, but as she raised
her arm to do so, her muscle T-shirt shifted and her left breast
fell through the arm hole as it stretched upwards. She balanced
the remote on her hip and started reaching across herself to
readjust her shirt, then caught me looking. Wrinkling her nose,
she stuck out her tongue at me, then blushed as she covered
herself again. Shortly after I excused myself and went to bed.
Soon hearing movement and soft giggles as the girls went off to
their own beds.

    It was ten minutes or so later when there was a soft knock on
my bedroom door. It slowly opened and Debbie was standing there
wearing the Kimono smoking jacket I had given her all those years
ago. Her hair she had pulled behind her into a ponytail. The
colors of the Jacket were a little duller than I remembered, but
otherwise it seemed to be in almost perfect condition. It was
made of a black satin material, but was covered with hand
embroidered tigers, dragons, flowers, and Japanese characters for
luck and long life. All in shimmery, satiny threads in bright
blues and purples. On her, it ended a few inches above her knees.
Belted tightly at her waist it both accentuated and partly
obscured her petite figure. She looked positively sexy and
alluring.

    "Well, what do you think?" she asked, striking a pose against
the door jamb.

    "Nice, very nice."

    She slowly undid the belt, never taking her eyes from mine.
As the belt fell free she slowly, smoothly opened the robe wide.
The tip of her tongue came out to rest on her upper lip, playing
slowly in and out across it. She was fully nude beneath the
jacket. Her high, still firm 32 breasts barely sagged, though
they were heavy with the milk they now carried. Her waist
narrowed in a smooth taper until the curve of her hips arced
around into perfectly matched, symmetrically sculpted legs. Yes,
they ran all the way to 'there'.  Unlike her daughter's quarter
sized patch of fine red hairs, Debbie's bush was just that, a
mature heavier thatch of duller red hair, trimmed in a well
defined triangle that was almost six inches across at the top and
fully a hand's width in height from her vagina. Her nipples were
fully erect, each with a small moist glisten at the tip. Her
labia were clean shaven and prominent, obviously swollen with
excitement. A small dark separation could just be seen near the
top, where her clitoris held them apart. She stood like that for
a long moment, robe held wide and creating a satiny backdrop as
she displayed herself for me. She has always had that ultra
sensitive skin so many redhead's seem to have, so she avoids
tanning and excess exposure to the sun. The result was that of an
Ivory goddess against the black of  the jacket's lining.

    Finally, she dropped the jacket behind her to the hallway
floor and slowly turned completely around, showing off her still
tight high ass and the curve of her back for me. When she was
facing me again she said, "Well, what do you think?"

    I didn't answer her with words. I got out of the bed on the
far side and stripped off my few clothes, slowly turning a
complete circle for her as well. As I did, my cock, already half
hard, was obviously becoming more and more erect. When I faced
her again she was smiling at me and made an exaggerated gesture
out of licking her lips. I climbed back under the covers and,
laying on my side and raised on my elbow, I raised the covers on
her side of the bed in invitation. She stepped in, closing the
door behind her and leaving the kimono on the floor outside.

    As she slid into the bed I asked only one thing, "Susan?"

    "The girls have her."

    "Planned this all out, did you?"

    "Oh yes," she said, wrapping her arms around my chest she
pulled herself tightly to me, molding herself to my body from top
to bottom. Wrapping one leg behind mine, she hugged me with her
entire body and kissed me long and hard, demandingly. There was
no real gentleness to what was happening . . . no softness or
romantic slow starts now. This was lust, need . . . pure want. We
held that position for  a long minute. Locked together from our
opened mouths to our legs. Tongues acting like attacking,
charging vipers. First spearing in, then trying to wrap around
and constrict each other.  My prick came to full attention as my
right hand moved freely between her buttocks and her neck,
sliding quickly, firmly up and down her back, fingers outlining
her spine as they moved.

    She broke the kiss, not I. I would gladly have stayed in that
one position for a longer time. So much was being communicated,
so much expressed in that simple pleasurable contact. We were
telling each other things in that long minute that would require
volumes of words to express. We were communicating things which
no amount of words could ever say. It spoke of needs and desires
long suppressed. Of passions and love never told. It felt of two
souls expressing what both had long known was there, between
them, but had never before dared to admit. Passing from one to
the other then back again, intensifying and increasing as the
message passed again, and again, then again once more.

    She began slowly sliding herself down my body. Almost I
stopped her, to return to the embrace just broken, but I held
myself in check. This was Debbie's show. She was the initiator
and I felt it would be important that she retain control at this
point.

    Short as she was, when her head was even with mine, her
pelvis was level with my navel. As she broke the kiss with my
lips, she bit them, hard, with her teeth holding them as she
started sliding south. releasing the lower lip only when she had
to. She immediately kissed my jaw and alternately kissed and
nibbled her way to my chin, where she once again bit hard.
Pausing, she sucked on my chin as she arched her back and ground
her pelvis into my belly. In a matter of seconds, a strong quiver
passed through her.

    My cock surged, jerked and pulsed, pulling tighter into my
stomach and coming to rest against her swollen labia. With a
wiggle of her hips, a slight shifting right and left as she
straightened her back again, her labia parted slightly and my
cock slid through the moisture gathered there straight to the
opening of her vagina no further guidance necessary. Debbie slid
an inch further down, transferring her ministrations to my neck
and throat as the head of my cock slid slowly into her. Another
shift and she was biting my shoulder as hard as she could . . .
another inch gone. A shift of her weight and I was rolled onto my
back as she kissed and nibbled her way down my chest, her lips
and teeth coming to rest on my right nipple as the last of my
cock slid into her, the tip just touching her cervix.

    "Oh Christ," she said, raising her head to look into my eyes.
"We fit so perfectly together. Just like I always knew and
imagined we would. Oh, I feel so perfectly filled . . . it's so
wonderful. I want to stay just like this, fall asleep with all of
you inside me, hard and hot, feeling your heartbeat through my
vagina."

    "You can if you want to Debbie. I can wait until later to go
further . . ."

    "Well, I can't." she said, suddenly putting her hands into my
chest and pushing herself upright. "I've waited and dreamed of
this for too long to delay it now. We'll save that idea for
another time." Squeezing hard with her vaginal muscles, she
raised herself about seven inches, until only the head remained

inside her, and suddenly slammed herself down onto me, hips
slapping against my own. She was so hot, so wet and so in control
of her muscles I didn't know how long I could last with this
fire-haired vixen rapidly pounding into my hips. "I . . . need .
. . it . . . all . . . now," she said timing her words with her
thrusts. "I've . . . had . . . wet . . . panties . . . since . .
. we . . .moved in!! I've . . . mastur  . . . bated . . . three .
. . times . . . at . . . work . . . this . . . week."

    She shuddered suddenly, her muscles suddenly spasming, her
vagina milking my shaft as her arms trembled and gave way. I
grabbed a tit in each hand and squeezed hard, supporting her
weight as another shudder passed through her and her breathing
caught for long moments, her fluids squeezing out around my cock
flowing through my pubic hair and around my balls.

    As her muscles began to relax I lowered her down atop me,
wrapped my arms around her and rolled us both over, putting her
on the bottom, as her eyes finally opened again.

   It was time to take some control. Her eyes sparkled and smiled
as brightly as her mouth. I reached down and pulled her legs up
beside me, her knees locked into my elbows. Placing my hands
beside her, I began thrusting, slowly at first, but quickening
until I was taking full hard plunges into her. As fast as I could
I pounded into her and found myself starting to push her across
the bed. She stared up into my eyes, smiling widely, soft "unhs"
sounding in her throat. She reached above her head bracing her
hands against the wall to hold herself in position as I continued
my attack on her sensitive pussy.

    "You started this," I said, "and we've reached the point I
have to finish things." As I plumbed her depths, I was able to
shift my dives within her, by shifting the position of my hands,
or moving my hips slightly from side to side. Pulling my hands
forward, I raised the angle of her hips so I was thrusting from
the bottom of her opening, upwards along the front of her canal
and across the sensitive nerve bundle called the G-spot. Moving
my hands down and pushing forward on my toes, and I was pushing
almost straight down into her from the front of her pussy,
thrusting into her along the membranes dividing her canal and
bowels, pushing across the nerve bundle located there. Each move
designed to provide her with different sensations, further
stimulations . . . it must have had the desired effect, because
she was shuddering and shaking almost continuously below me.

     As I was continually shifting and changing the assault, I
was watching her below me, gauging her reactions, her body's
reactions, to what I was doing. I had hit my stride, regained
some manner of control. I had been thrusting steadily for about
five minutes and felt I had at least another five or ten minutes
left in me before release. Below me, she was becoming a sweating
almost quivering mass, seeming to be locked into a cycle of one
orgasm after another, each seeming to add fire to the next. Sweat
was pouring from her, trickling across her temples and into her
now plastered hair. Her ears were bright red while her cheeks
were pasty, almost bloodless. Tears flowed from the corners of
her eyes as she gulped for air like a drowning person. Her chest
and shoulders were flushed while her freckles had gone almost
white. Her chest heaved, breasts swaying almost in complete
circles as we moved. Mothers milk seeped continuously from her
distended nipples, running down the insides of her breasts and
joining the sweat there to form a solid stream of fluids between
them.

    The muscles in her stomach rippled and moved, expanding and
contracting as she moved to meet me thrust for thrust. The
muscles of her vagina didn't really grip and relax as they had
earlier, but seemed to have settled into a constant unceasing
flutter around my invading dick. Causing myriad butterfly
sensations, first here, then there, always in two or three places
at once, but never seeming to be in the same place twice. Her
fluids flowed out around me continuously, unceasingly.

    It was all delicious, and except for the gasping breathing,
the soft almost silent grunts in each of our throats and the wet
puddle slapping sounds as our pelvis' came together, it was
silent. Words weren't necessary, this time. Our eyes were locked
together and we were happy with ourselves and each other. We
continued . . . and continued . . . and continued until finally
she had another big one. Everything went rigid and her muscles
clamped down hard again, a violent shake passing through her
body.

    I had been on automatic pilot by that time, I had reached
that place inside myself where I can essentially last and last,
but the sudden, unexpected change in sensation was all it took,
and I too reached orgasm, emptying myself deep within her as I
collapsed atop her, barely able to hold my weight off of her with
my hands, and not quite folding her eighty pound frame completely
in half with my almost 200 pound body.

    As soon as I was able to control my position better, I
released her legs, and she immediately wrapped them around my
waist. Hooking her ankles together and wrapping her arms once
again around my chest, pulling herself up to once again suckle at
my chest and nipples, holding me inside herself and refusing to
release me from her womb.  My arms were tired and I tried to roll
over onto my side, but she used our combined weight to continue
the roll until I was once again on my back.

    We lay that way for long minutes, catching our breath and
composing ourselves, slowly coming down from our mutual flights.
My dick, still hard, throbbing gently within her while I, in turn
felt her heartbeat and breathing slow as much through the
membrane surrounding my member, as through the contact of chest
on chest. Finally, she raised her head and pushed herself up onto
her hands, saying, "You're still hard? After all that?"

    "Yeah, he's got a mind of his own. Once he's awake, he
doesn't like to go back to sleep for awhile. It'll soften
sometime later tonight, after I'm asleep. It's always been that
way. It'll stay hard until I'm either asleep, or I get up and
start moving around for a while. Feels good, just were he is,
don't you think?"

    "Mmm. It was all just so perfect, tonight, though next time,
I would like to try something softer, more romantic, I think.
But, for tonight, I want to find out two more things before we go
to sleep. Besides, I think I would like to rinse us both down a
bit, so we're not sleeping in puddles or sticking together. what
say we sleep in my bed tonight?"

    "Okay with me, as long as we're both there together."

    We disengaged and moved to the bathroom first, where Debbie
used a damp wash cloth to clean the sweat and fluids from both of
us, sitting on the toilet and peeing as she turned me first one
way then the other, wiping down most of my torso and legs
refusing to allow me to help.

    Finally, turning me to face her she took my still rigid cock
in her left hand and slid her lips around it, pushing forward
until I hit the back of her throat. Pulling back for a moment she
adjusted her angle and pushed forward again, the head first
hitting, then sliding past and into her throat. She didn't stop
until her nose was completely buried in my pubic hair. Even then,
she pushed forward and shifted her head a little, working her
tongue against the underside of my cock, slowly extending it more
and more until her tongue slid past her teeth, further down my
shaft to the top of my ball sack.

    She froze in that position, Just the very tip of her tongue
moving against my sack. Some how, she was able to breathe through
her nose. and she did so as she slowly began to milk my cock with
her throat muscles. She didn't swallow, not really, simply flexed
her throat muscles in a rhythm that produced sensations I hadn't
felt but once before in all my 48 years. I blew my cork for a
second time, and she'd done it in less than three minutes.

    "Like I said before," after pulling her head back and licking
the last sparkling drops from my dick slit. "A perfect fit. Just
like I always knew and dreamed it would be when I was growing up.
That was one of the two things I had to find out yet, Only one
more to go." Her smile was beaming, but gave nothing away. She
cleaned herself then, finally allowing me help her when it came
to cleaning her back.

    In her bedroom she took care to position me 'just so' on her
bed, put on a pair of socks, and retrieved a tube of moisturizing
cream from her night stand. Putting a big dab on her palm, she
wrapped her hands around my still rigid cock and jacked it a few
times, smearing cream all over it. She put a big dab on two
finger tips and reached behind herself for a moment, before
finally sliding into the bed and pulling the top sheet up over
us. She rolled so she was facing away from me and slid back into
my chest. Reaching between her legs she took my dick in her hand
and pulled the tip to the entrance of her rectum. Reaching behind
me she cupped my butt cheeks and said, "Stay  still, let me do
this." She pulled, flexing her hips once and shifting one leg
slightly. She pulled herself back onto me and me into her in one
smooth fluid motion. She wriggled her hips again and pulled
forward more firmly against my buttocks, until she had every
centimeter of me she could squeeze in. She relaxed back into me,
pulling my left arm forward to use as her pillow.

    "As I said, perfect fit. My last question of the day is
answered. I always knew it would be this way with you. I always
dreamed it. You were the measuring stick against which I rated
every man I've ever known or been with. None ever measured up.
None ever fit like you fit. Everything I know about you, every
moment I've ever had with you, every touch I've ever had from
you, has always been a perfect fit. Tonight, I was a whore. I was
your whore. I will always be yours, and no one else's." I felt
tears falling on my arm as she spoke. A single soft sob shook her
body as she spoke.

    "After tonight, no other man will ever have my body,
willingly, except you. No one else will ever own my heart, except
you. I will never marry again, except to you. You were the reason
I moved to Michigan. You were the reason I settled in this area.
As of this moment, I am yours."

    "I decided long ago, Debbie . . . I will never marry."

    "Then I will be your whore or mistress. Whether I live here
or elsewhere, as long as you will allow it, I will be yours and I
will be happy."

    "As you wish it," I said simply. She kissed the inside of my
forearm, snuggled herself further into me, and fell asleep crying
softly to herself with my hard cock  buried in her asshole.

    I didn't move. I didn't think about things for long. She
could stay as long as she liked, I'd told her that when she moved
in, without what had just happened. I loved her deeply and would
try to make her happy. But I was not 'in love' with her and
didn't think I would ever be 'in love' with anyone ever again. My
past contained things never spoken of, never to be spoken of, but
they precluded that kind of love, precluded marriage, from my
future. It saddened me to know I would never be able to give her
the true completeness she desired and probably needed, for I
truly did and always would love this woman. I too was happy, or
as happy as I could ever be.  Soon, I too was asleep.

(More to come??) 

------- ASSM Moderation System Notice--------
This post has been reformatted by the ASSM
Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations.         |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+